


The Catch That Came To Stay

by stanchezsloppyseconds



Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 07:00:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9808376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stanchezsloppyseconds/pseuds/stanchezsloppyseconds
Summary: Stanley Pines had agreed to help his brother with his studies of the paranormal in Gravity Falls expecting to get to encounter the iconic horror monsters he’d always loved from his favourite movies. Instead he got little men in pointy hats and eyeball bats. This time though, it seems they may have stumbled across a real classic cryptid. Even if his brother is skeptical that real life could be anything like those silly old black and white films, Stan is stubbornly set on catching himself The Creature from the Gravity Falls Lagoon. What he didn't count on was the creature capturing his heart in return. (The complete original collection of sequential one shot fics I wrote for my Cryptid AU about the Mystery Quartet with Aqua Rick)





	1. The Catch That Got Away

**Author's Note:**

> Art for this AU can be found over at my tumblr: http://stanchez-sloppy-seconds.tumblr.com/tagged/cryptid-au

“That’s the third boat we’ve seen wreaked this year.” The fisherman said with a frown. “It’s bad for business and with the summer tourist season around the corner, I’m starting to worry we’ll have to close the lake down to keep people safe.”

 "And no one’s seen what did it?“ Ford asked as he curiously inspected the wrecked haul of the fishing boat.

 "The ship was strategically attacked at its weakest points so it would sink the fastest. That rules out a Gobblewonker.” Fiddleford pointed out.

 "I’m telling you Ford it stinks of The Creature from the Black Lagoon.“ Stan said, shoving another handful of toffee peanuts in his mouth before tossing the empty bag away.

 "These things are never as simple as the answers from your horror movies, Stanley.” Ford groaned. “Besides, even if it was an aquatic humanoid, which is highly unlikely, it wouldn’t be at all proper to name it _The Creature_. You expect me to take a movie seriously when they couldn’t even properly scientifically name the monster?”

 “Heh, yeah cause Gobblewonker is a perfectly scientific name” Stanley scoffed, rolling his eyes. Determined to ignore his brother’s skepticism of his theory, he wandered around the side of the boat rental building. It was a rundown little shop that doubled as a house. Noticing a small wooden door leading down below the house with a broken lock Stanley paused to inspect the claw marks in the wood. “Hey, what’s down here?”

 "Just the wine cellar. Darn local teens like to break in and steal bottles from time to time.“ The fisherman grumbled.

 "Yeah, local teens, sure.” Stan muttered as he noted a set of strange footprints left in the sand heading back towards the water. 

 "I think we should set the underwater traps near the west bank where most of the attacks have been" Ford Started instructing Fiddleford who was already drafting a list of supplies they’d need.

 "Hey Ford?“

 "Not now Stanley, can’t you see we’re busy?" 

 "Yeah but there’s something literally fishy with the-”

 "As I was saying…“ Ford continued telling Fiddleford his plan. 

 "Fine, never mind, I’ll just catch it myself.” Stanley mumbled, picking up a small smooth rock and skipping it across the lake. The stone skimmed over the surface a fair distance before sinking into the still dark water where a webbed hand caught it as it fell.

 

* * *

 

 

While Ford and Fidds were the enthusiastic scientists of the non-unanimously dubbed Mystery Trio, Stanley was usually just the muscle there to help out when things got out of hand. That wasn’t to say though that Stan didn’t have his own interests in the paranormal things they chased, occasionally caught, and studied. Ever since he was a kid he’d been a fan of classic horror cinema. When Stanley had first moved with his brother to Gravity Falls to help him with his research of the paranormal, he’d expected things to be a bit more like the movies and a little less spending his time debating what was under tiny bearded man’s pointy hats. Sure there was the odd run in with a manotaur where he’d get to arm wrestle their way out of trouble, and there’d once been some zombies (which they’d beaten with the power of karaoke instead of Stan’s suggested method of a bullet to the head…) but overall, as a proud horror movie buff, he’d been sorely disappointed in the monster department. This time though, he thought they might actually be on the tail of chasing down a real silver screen beast. Of course Ford had merely scoffed at the suggestion, but they’d see who was laughing when their fancy science traps turned up empty and Stan had caught his swamp thing with a rowboat, a single net, and a bottle of liquor.

“Who’d have thought to catch a big fish the best bait would be a bottle of whiskey.” Stanley chuckled as he lugged the net up onto the boat. Yellow eyes gleamed viciously from inside the netting as the beast slunk back into the shadows to hide, webbed clawed fingers clutching the liquor bottle tightly. Stan shifted to get a better look at it but paused when it hissed viciously at him, “Look I ain’t gonna hurt you, so long as you don’t hurt me, buddy. Just gonna take you home so we can make record of you, and then I’ll put you back in the lake.”

 “N-neeed to stay near the water. I can’t breathe w-well on land like you.” The beast stammered, its voice struggling like someone short of breath. Stan hadn’t really expected it to even be able to understand English, let alone speak it. Sure the gnomes had talked too, and the manotaur had a limited but sufficient if not overly cliché masculine vocabulary, but this thing looked a hell of a lot less human than the things they’d found in the woods.

 “The Shack isn’t too far off…” He offered although he could tell from looking at his prized catch that it wasn’t going to make it there and back. _Shit._ He probably should have thought this through more before trying to catch a monster on his own. It was usually Ford who handled coming prepared with a backup plan. Stanley had always been the punch first, ask questions later type. If he didn’t bring something back with him though, the other two were unlikely to believe him. He watched as his movie perfect monster squirmed in the netting, trying to get itself free to not much avail. It froze, tensing its posture and hissing again as he approached it.

 “Hold on, stay still, I’ll get the net off.” Stan sighed as he tentatively reached out a hand to try and untangle the net, “Just- if I let you go, can I see you again if I come back? I’ll bring more alcohol.”

 The creature stayed quiet, save for its heavy wheezing struggles to breathe, as bright eyes watched Stan’s hands make quick work of tearing through the knotted net when he’d given up on untying it. Once it was free, Stan found himself caught in slight awe as he got his first proper look at the creature he’d caught. It looked more human than he’d thought at first glance, despite the dark emerald scaled skin and pale blue gills and fins that almost swept back in a soft hair like manner giving an impression of a Mohawk. Those eyes that reflected back the low light so brightly were gorgeously dark like the sea on closer inspection, and equally full of curiosity taking in the sight of its captor.

“Damn… you’re kinda uh, gorgeous up close” Stan muttered softly, blushing as he pulled back a bit, overly aware he’d been lingering in the creature’s personal space for a bit too long. The creature glanced down at the bottle of booze still clutched in its claws. After a moment’s contemplation, it tossed the bottle overboard before lunging at Stanley, inciting a yelp of panic from him as they both tumbled over the edge of the tiny boat and into the icy lake water.

Everything was so dark and cold and Stan trashed wildly for a moment trying to find which way was up amidst his horror that his dream movie monster was likely going to drown him. He pushed away as webbed hands tried to grab onto him to hold him still, not wanting to let the creature drag him down to the bottom of the lake never to be seen again, but then bright eyes were gleaming just inches away from his face and he felt cool scaled lips press firmly to his in a kiss. Then before he could fully even register what was going on, the creature was gone, its dark silhouette swimming off into the depths as Stan quickly pushed himself to the surface gasping for air. Frantically searching the water for any sign of his monster, Stan finally spotted it breach a fair distance away, holding up the bottle of whiskey.

“Tequila ne-next time, handsome air-breather!” The creature shouted back before disappearing beneath the water once more.

When Stan made it back to shore, he saw the boat his brother and Fiddleford had rented parked back at the dock and empty. They’d likely already called it a night after checking their empty traps. By the time Stan had gotten home, it was well past midnight and he was shivering from the trek through the woods in nothing but a soaked t-shirt and jeans.

“You’re sopping wet.” Ford commented as he glanced up wearily from his work. Fiddleford snored softly from the seat beside him, asleep on the keyboard of his personal computer.  The kitchen table they sat at was covered in notes on various lake creature lore. Stan didn’t bother to ask how unfruitful their attempts to catch anything tonight had been.

“I met _The Creature_ from the Gravity Falls Lagoon.” Stan said, teeth chattering, “H-He likes Tequila.”


	2. The Catch That Got Away Part.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stanley Pines finally caught his dream movie monster, only to end up letting it go. After failing to convince his brother and Fiddleford of his cryptid catch, he returns with them to the lake with a bottle of tequila in hopes he convince his monster to show itself and agree to let his friends study it.

“Maybe he’s just shy and doesn’t want to come out cause you guys are here” Stan complained posture slumping in defeat as he looked down at the bottle of tequila he was holding before glancing out at the lake again. The water was peacefully still in the early evening light. There wasn’t a single sign of his monster in sight.

“Maybe we should just go home, Stanley? We can always try another time?” Fiddleford offered with a smile, trying to be supportive although he was inclined to agree with Ford that perhaps Stan had just made things up as a creative excuse for not having caught anything the previous night and coming home wet because he’d just accidentally fallen in the lake and didn’t want to admit it.

“No, he’s out there, I know he is.” Stan said firmly, scowling out annoyed at the lake before perking up with an idea. Grabbing his brother by the arm, Stanley pulled him over into the brush of the nearby edge of the woods.

“Wait- what? You can’t be serious? Stanley this whole charades gone on long enough as it is-”

“Stop whining and just do it already! And pipe down he’ll hear you and catch on.”

After a moment they both returned looking a tad ruffled, Stan running his hands through his hair to try and get it to slick back properly, as Ford adjusted his glasses. It took Fiddleford a moment before he noticed the switch. The only truly telling thing was the hands as Stanley, dressed in Ford’s clothes, grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the lake.

“I’ve had enough of you stupid games Stanley, we’re going home!” Stan shouted in his best impression of his brother before tugging Fiddleford away to hide behind the fishing boat rental building, leaving Ford standing there squinting without his glasses and holding a bottle of tequila. He glanced over his shoulder to check they were hidden before calling out to the water in a near flawless mimicry of Stanley’s voice. They’d been playing this trick since they were little, and even Fiddleford had fallen for it on a few occasions.

“Uh- They’re gone now, you can come on out.”

Ford nearly grumbled under his breath about this being a waste of time as he waited and still nothing showed up, but no sooner had he opened his mouth to complain when the water noticeably rippled. It got closer before the fin clearly breached the surface, then a pair of large eyes peaked out from the water. It appeared Ford owed his brother an apology about not believing him as the creature got close enough that even with his limited vision he could make out the striking resemblance it bore to the classic movie monster. Curiosity getting the better of him, Ford stepped up to the shallows of the water, wanting to get closer, but the creature froze at his approach. A look of confusion crossed its features before it pulled back, diving down into the lake again. For a moment he thought he’d scared it off, but then it popped back up once more. Before Ford could react, the creature made a terrifying hissing noise before lobbing a large wad of pond scum and freshwater seaweed right in Ford’s face. Startled, he dropped the tequila as he reached up to scrub the muck from his eyes.

“Eat mud, f-fake” the creature said with a bitter laugh, before glancing around “W-Where’d the other go?”

Ford could already hear Stanley laughing as he came out from hiding along with Fiddleford who quickly produced a handkerchief for him to clean his face with.

“Oh man, you got him good!” Stanley called out to his aquatic friend as he passed the glasses back to his twin before walking up to the water’s edge. “How’d you know though? We used to fool our parents with that one.”

“Smelled wrong” The creature retorted with a small frown before cautiously swimming closer to Stanley, still wary of the other two humans standing behind him, watching intently with scientific curiosity.

“Heightened scene of smell? Fascinating!” Fiddleford exclaimed as he pulled out a notepad to write in.

“Yes, just great.” Ford muttered still a bit sore about the mud he’d just gotten to the face. “Your specimen is a real charmer there Stanley.”

“Heh, yeah well you should have seen him last night” Stanley chuckled as he winked at the lake creature. It was rude to kiss and tell after all. The creature didn’t make any sign of understanding the gesture, and had stopped just short of the shallows. It observed silently as Stan ran his hand through the lake water before brushing his tussled hair with his damp fingers to get it to stick back. He still had the wrong clothes which muddled his scent with the other one’s but the creature seemed more satisfied now that Stan was looking more himself again. It seemed even more pleased when Stanley stripped down to his boxers, leaving Ford’s clothes on the shore as he scooped up the bottle of tequila from the sandy bank and waded into the water.

“Stanley, should you really get that close to it?” Ford asked sounding a tad concerned.

“It’s fine Ford.” Stan reassured his brother, “I’m just gonna give him his tequila.”

“You’d mentioned that he doesn’t breathe well out of the water?” Fiddleford muttered softly as he continued to take notes. “We’d need a decent sized tank to transport him back to the lab. Otherwise we’ll have to bring all the equipment here…”

“Handsome air-breather le-let go. N-no more catching” the creature said looking to Stan for confirmation.

“Not by force.” Stan said as he got close enough to reach out to pass the bottle as a peace offering, “But if you let them study you -just for a little while- I promise they won’t hurt you. I’d stay with you the whole time, and we’d bring you back as soon as they were done with their research.”

The creature seemed to contemplate for a moment, before accepting the tequila with a small nod. Then without any further words, it quickly kissed Stan again before diving back into the water and disappearing. Stan blushed furiously as the hairs on the back of his neck prickled at the sound of the other two snickering from the shore.

“No wonder you were plumb eager to jump in the water.” Fiddleford commented as Stan trudged out of the water, looking embarrassed.

“I always thought you liked those movies for the quote ‘hot babes’ the monsters kidnapped?” Ford teased with a grin.

“Yeah well, Julie Adams was great and all, but she wasn’t the star the movie was named after.” Stan said quietly under his breath and the grabbed his own shirt back from Ford.

“So you think we can get him to come back to the house with us?”

“He seemed okay with it. I’m probably gonna need to buy more tequila though…”

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning Ford and Fiddleford had been in the middle of trying to plan how they would transport the creature from the lake when there’d been a knock at the door. Stan had begrudgingly gone to answer it, ready to tell whoever was selling something to politely fudge off, but stopped dead mid sentence when he opened the door to a familiar cryptid standing on the doorstep wearing what appeared to be an over-sized fishbowl on his head. The bowl covered his head and gills so they were still submerged in water, and a small electronic filter at the base of the neck sealed the bottom of the glass bubble, humming quietly as it recycled the water.

“Hello, Stanley.” The creature greeted with a toothy grin, obviously pleased with the look of shock on Stan’s face.

“Who was it?” Ford called from the other room.

“Uh-” Stan paused, glancing awkwardly at the cryptid, looking a tad ashamed “I’ve kissed you twice and I don’t know what you’re name is-” His horror movie star made a strange noise that sounded like an odd series of clicks and whistles, and Stan paled slightly, not sure he would be able to say that name. The creature seemed to understand and thankfully added a far simpler to pronounce moniker.

“I always liked the name Rick.”


	3. Summer Tides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's just a completely self-indulgent oneshot about the happy lil water trash babies swimming and having fun in the lake on a hot summer’s afternoon. There’s not plot.. it’s just fluff written loosely as a character study, but mostly just made for fun to cheer myself up.

The summer heat was sweltering already even though it was still only June, and the cool water of the Gravity Falls Lake was a welcome relief from the weather for residents and tourists alike. Stanley Pines was among the many who’d decided it was a good day for a swim, although unlike the rest of the crowd he wasn’t there because he wanted too cool off or go fishing. Instead he’d swam away from the more crowded area of the lake, until he’d made his way around to the deserted backside of the small island that sat in the center. Once he knew no one had followed, he dove down. Holding his breath, he waited a moment, letting his body softly sink.

It didn’t take long before even in the darkness he could make out Rick’s silhouette swimming towards him. The cryptid barreled into him at full speed, knocking them both spinning in the water before he tugged Stan up towards the surface. Stan gasped in a fresh breath of air and laughed as Rick swam happy circles around him.

“Miss me?” Stan asked with a grin as he leaned back to float on the water’s surface.

“It’s been d-daaaays!”

“Sorry, Ford had me helping with one of his projects all week.” Stan sighed exhaustively. He’d been longing to come to the lake sooner but hadn’t had the time lately. Even his usual night time visit had been thrown off schedule.  

“I was-was going to sneak out and come on land if y-you didn’t show up soon.” Rick said eagerly.

“The lakes too busy right now for you to be sneaking around all the time. Ford insists it’s better if you stay in one place.” Stan pouted, although he knew his brother was right, and Rick could hide better in the depths of the lake than he could on land where he stood out too much.

“There are rock pools in the woods. I could sta-stay closer.” Rick protested.

“Yeah but those are so shallow and there’s lots of other things in those woods.” Stan sighed, “You’re better off here for now. At least till the tourist season calms down. The locals wouldn’t cause much fuss if they saw you, but the outsiders would.”

“There are so many filthy air-breathers on m-my lake. I hate it.” Rick growled barring his teeth in the general direction of where all the other humans were enjoying the lake.

“Hey, I’m one of those filthy air-breathers too remember” It had been a while since Rick had called him that, but Stan remembered the term being used abundantly when they’d first met and it had never been lost on him that it was meant to be some kind of mild insult.

“You’re better at h-holding your breath than them.” Rick said with a knowing smirk.

“Is that my only redeeming quality?” He asked as he glanced over at his aquatic boyfriend. He knew it wasn’t, but also knew Rick wasn’t one to hand out compliments often so he wasn’t surprised by the answer he got.

“Yes.” Rick teased before diving down, webbed hands grabbing Stan’s ankles and dragging him down with him, the water cutting off his yelp of surprise.

Bubbles streamed off of Stan as he was pulled downwards. When they’d first met, Stan had thought Rick was going to kill him when he’d knocked him into the lake, but now it was a well played game between them, and he had nothing but trust that his boyfriend wouldn’t let him drown. After they’d plunged down to a depth where Stan could barely see anymore, Rick tugged him into a rough kiss, scaled lips cold against his as sharp teeth teased at his lips, trying to get him to open his mouth. But Stan knew better than to give into that temptation as his lungs started to burn.

When that tactic didn’t work, he heard Rick let out a chiding quip in his own language, the clicks and whistles echoing in the dense silence of the darkness. He didn’t understand what was said, but he knew from the tone that it was likely a mockery of him, so Stan retorted by pushing the cryptid away from him playfully. They wrestled with each other for another few moments before Stan finally decided he should stop ignoring his body’s demand for air, so he broke away and swam back up towards the surface. Just before he reached the top though, Rick tugged his foot back down one last time, denying him that oxygen just a fraction longer. Sputtering as he burst out of the lake and frantically gulped in air, Stan glared as he heard Rick laughing at him.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You’re no better after a couple minutes on land without your breather” His voice was hoarse as he still steadied his breathing.

“I can last longer than you can.” Rick bragged as he splashed water at Stan.

“Yeah well Ford said that’s because your gills technically can breathe the oxygen in air, they just aren’t very good at it when they start to collapse from being out of water. Meanwhile, my lungs don’t like being filled with water at all, thank you very much.” Stan muttered with a frown. Rick knew these facts plenty well enough, but he still would insist that Stan should simply teach his lungs how to breathe better under water. Then he could just come live in the lake with him. He said it as if it were that simple. Sometimes Stan wished it was.

“It-it’ll be months t-till the tourists leave.” Rick groaned.

“I’ll come visit every chance I get. Fiddleford says he’ll make me some diving gear next week. Then I can hang out with you at the bottom of the lake all day.”

“I could build you something to do that” the cryptid scoffed in a childishly jealous manner that made Stanley laugh.

“You don’t need to get so green with envy around the gills over it. I’m sure you could make one, but maybe I’d rather have something for breathing air built by someone who actually breathes air. No hard feelings, Gillman.” Stan teased affectionately as he splashed water at his boyfriend’s emerald scaled face.

“But… I a-am green around my gills? I’m green all-all over.” Rick said flatly.

“No it’s a thing people say. It’s usually for when someone looks ill, and well green is usually associated with jealousy- I was making a fish joke about you being sick with envy over Fiddleford making me diving gear” Stan’s idioms and puns still were sometimes culturally lost on him.

“Humans d-don’t have gills” Rick said blankly still not understanding.

“Nevermind, my lil’ Polliwog, it was just a dumb joke.” Stan chuckled as he pulled Rick close to him so he could kiss the confused cryptid.  

It was days like this that made Stan hope the rest of his life could be spent just like this. He was sure he would be happy forever in this moment. Nestled in the scaly arms of his aquatic lover, the warm summer sun and cool lake water framing them, as they swam and joked around not a real care in the world save for their love for each other.


	4. The Creature From The Black Lagoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Done as a response for an Autmun prompt list. "Anonymous asked: how about #7 scary movies for crypitid au? Cryptid Rick's reaction to Stan's favorite classic horror films?"

Fingers fumbling with the projector, Stan lined up the film reel. The last two films had gone over well enough, but his third title of his classic monster movie marathon had him slightly hesitant.

“You sure you wanna watch this one too, Polliwog? It’s already getting late. We could always save it for another time?” Stan asked as Rick returned with a fresh bowl of popcorn covered in seaweed flakes.

“Mi-miss the main event? No way!” The cryptid said with a toothy grin as he ate a clawful of popcorn. “B-besides you said it was your ff-favourite. I gotta see h-how this Gilman beats out Nosferatu!”

The film clicked in and began to roll as the projector shone the title card for The Creature From The Black Lagoon on the far wall. Settling back into the couch next to his damp blanket wrapped scaled boyfriend, Stan tried hard not to worry about it.

There was a specific formula to the horror classics that Stan had always eaten up like candy as a kid. The leading lady was usually kidnapped by some horrid beast and it was up to the leading man to save her, slay the creature, and win the happily ever after, or at least happily ever until the sequel got made. These days though Stan was finding it a bit harder to find the same thrill in watching it always play out that way. Lately he found himself wanting the monsters to win. This was something Rick clearly agreed with as he cheered on the vampires and volleyed for Frankenstein and his creation. While Rick laughed off the endings and made quips that humans were stupid for thinking that they’d always win in the end, Stan quietly just wrapped an arm protectively around his naive little swamp creature’s shoulder and pulled him closer.

During the previous movies, they had made commentary throughout. Mocking some of the cheesier lines of dialogue, or pointing out inaccuracies in the costumes compared to real life monsters. It started out the same. Stan made a quip about how hot the lead starlet was, Rick rebuttaled that he preferred the leading man, but the moment the creature made its first appearance they fell silent. It stayed that way well after the popcorn was gone. The monster sank to the depths riddled with bullets, and the film finished.

Warily unsure of how to read Rick’s heavy silence and blank expression, Stan wondered if he’d made a mistake. With all the countless times he’d watched the film in his childhood, it had taken watching it next to his favourite monster for Stan to realize a detail that had never bothered him before.

Until it had been provoked by the humans into fighting, all the Gilman had been doing was curiously exploring the campsite invading its home. Unlike Nosferatu ’s attempts to slay the damsel and make her his undead bride, the creature had kidnapped the girl with seemingly only the motive of wanting a friend. For the first time Stan was revaluating his favourite monster film, because all these years he’d thought that his beloved cryptid was the monster, when perhaps it had been the humans who were the wicked beasts all along.

“Th-that…” Rick said with a pause that made Stan’s breath stop “-That was aa-awesome!”

Blinking stunned Stan listened as Rick excitedly babbled on about the movie the same way he had the last two. He recounted the fight scenes with all the enthusiasm of a giddy seven year old Stanley.

“Can we watch it again t-tomorrow?” Rick asked.

“Huh?” Stan’s head was spinning and he didn’t quiet process the request at first. “Oh, uh sure. There.. There’s a sequel too if you want.”

“There’s more! H-holy shiiit!” Rick was laughing in joy as his boyfriend squirmed at the pit in his stomach. The cryptid seemed to notice, cause his smile faltered for a moment. “What’s wrong?”

He bristled slightly at the question.

“They just barged into his home, attacked him, caged him and when he tried to make a friend they chased him from his home and filled him with bullets- how can that not bother you? How can you be so excited that humans killed you?” Stan hadn’t really meant for it to come out that way but it had spilled out before he could stop himself.

Bright wide eyes glowed in the darkness of the living room as they searched Stan’s with a perplexed fascination. It had always struck the cryptid as odd that humans would shed water when they were upset as if their emotions somehow irritated their vision.

“It was j-just a movie.” Rick replied softly. When he’d first seen a television it had taken Stan days of explanation before he’d grasped the concept that there weren’t tiny people stuck in the box. Had his human companion somehow forgotten this and confused the on screen monster for him? He didn’t think that seemed likely. He was much better looking than a human in a clumsy rubber suit.

“I know,” Stan flushed red with embarrassment as he scrubbed away tears. “I didn’t mean- I know it’s a movie. It’s my favourite movie.”

“But it made you sad. Be-because of me?” Rick said quietly, “Because humans might react that way t-to me.”

“I wouldn’t let them hurt you.” Stan insisted with a fiercely protective look on his face. Unlike the strange watery eyes, that was an expression Rick understood well. He beamed a toothy grin and pulled his silly human into a tight rough housing sort of strangle hold of a hug.

“I’m too smart for those dumb air breathers to catch anyways” Rick proclaimed proudly.

“Hey! This dumb air breather caught you, remember?” Stan countered as he wriggled out of the hold and toppled them both over in the process, laughing as they rolled on the floor.

“You aren’t like them. You’re nn- not dumb. Besides, I let you catch me, cause y-you’re handsome.” Rick said as he rolled back on top of Stan, pinning him down to the carpet, triumphant in his attempt to make the human boy smile again. He decided that victory deserved a reward and leaned in to steal a quick kiss.

The next night they watched the movie again, this time followed by the sequel and together they laughed and cheered as the monster was vanquished and the hero got the girl. After all, it was just a movie. In real life, they knew that sometimes things weren’t as simple as they were the silver screen. Sometimes the monster caught the leading man’s heart instead.


	5. Fishnapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on an Anon’s idea prompt. “A poacher Ford’s been tracking, who captures anomalies to sell to sideshows and circuses, comes to Gravity Falls, and Rick’s gotten a little too used to Stan being the only one who comes by his lake late at night… The poacher almost gets away with Rick, a manotaur, and a couple of gnomes before Ford puts it together and the Trio burst in like nerdy, avenging angels…” 
> 
> Warning for some violence, cause anyone who dares to kidnap Stan Pine’s boyfriend is gonna get punched. I don’t make these rules. 

The truck had swerved into an old tree as it was ran off the road by the red convertible that had been pursuing it. Having survived the crash, the driver had abandoned his load and run frantically into the nearby forest to try and evade the three young men giving chase.

“Stanley! You get them out of the back of the truck, Fiddleford and I will go after him.” Ford shouted before taking off after the escaping paranormal poacher. 

The back of the crashed truck was locked, but Stan had quickly fetched a crowbar from his trunk and busted open the latched door. Inside was a slightly shaken looking dog carrier full of gnomes, and a young manotaur in shackles. Climbing up into the truck, Stan made quick work of letting them out before spotting the over-sized fish tank full of muddy water sitting in the back. Stan felt a wash of relief roll over him when he saw the cryptid inside was still alive.

“Rick! I thought I’d lost you-” Stan choked back a sob as he ran over only to pause when his shoe splashed in a puddle. Glancing down to his wet feet then back at the tank he spotted the spider web of cracks in the glass. It was likely it had been damaged by the crash. He paled as he realized that they were still miles away from the lake, and Rick didn’t have his equipment for breathing on land. He’d somehow need to get the cryptid to water before it drained and left his aquatic boyfriend drowning in air. Rick seemed to have noticed it too as he glanced worriedly out at Stan, a webbed hand pressing against the tank’s wall.

“It’ll be okay. We’ll figure out some way to get you outta here.” Stan said placing his own hand to the cracked glass separating them.

“Um, maybe we can do something to help?” Glancing back Stan noticed the gnomes and manotaur still hadn’t left.

“I- er, we need to get this leak patched. Or get him to more water fast.” Stan frowned, “If I could get the tank into my car I might be able to drive it there, but I don’t think I can lift it.”

“Testosteraur will move fishman” The manotaur declared as he stepped forward flexing his arms before reaching for the tank Rick was captive in.

“Don’t break the glass or spill too much of the water!” Stan fretted as he nervously watched the large bull faced man lift up the tank with ease, surprisingly being rather gentle with it for his bulking size and strength. The manotaur carried the tank over to the Stanmobile, and tried to place it down, only to find there wasn’t enough room in the vehicle for the leaky glass tub. Cringing in empathetic pain for his car, Stan watched as the beast ripped out the back seat of the convertible with one hand to make room for the tank balanced on his shoulder. Patting the hood before getting into the driver’s seat Stan reminded himself he could fix the car later, Rick’s life was more important right now.

“You good back there?” Stan asked as he looked back over his shoulder to check on his boyfriend. The water was starting to get noticeably low. Rick’s legs awkwardly stuck out of the tank as he twisted himself to keep his gills lower than the rest of him. A clawed thumbs-up let Stan know he was set to get out of there. Before Stan started the car though, the gnomes all piled into the back seat with Rick.

“You hit the gas and we’ll try and keep these cracks sealed as best we can.” One of them instructed as the three tiny men all worked together to cover the cracks, pressing their hats into the small fractures in the tub.

“Sorry Poindexter. I’ll come back for you and Fidds after.” Stan said to the review mirror as he glanced in the direction of the forest the others had run after the poacher in. He’d have normally wanted to wait for them so he could get a good couple punches in once they’d caught the prick who’d thought he could sell Rick off to the highest freak show bidder, but there wasn’t time.

Driving at a speed which Ford would have called him reckless and suicidal for, Stan made it back to the lakeside by the time the sun had set. Thankful the lake was deserted, he’d been quick to jump out of the car. His shoes were sloshing from the water that had flooded the floor of the vehicle as he quickly opened the backdoor and scooped Rick out of the nearly empty tank. The gnomes had done their best to try and hold the water in but the glass had only cracked more under strain, and the cryptid while still conscious was already wheezing for breath before Stan had lifted him into his arms. Not caring to take off his clothes, Stan waded into the water until he was waist deep, and lowered Rick into the lake, holding onto him until he’d regained his breath enough to swim on his own. The cryptid splashed around for a moment, relishing in his home before tackling Stan over with a hug. Burying his face into the other man’s submerged chest, Rick held on tight to his human until he knew well enough to let Stan go back up for air.

“I need to go back for the others.” Stan sighed once he’d caught his breath, “I’ll be back as soon as I can though. If you want to come stay at the shack toni-”

“Y-yes.” Rick answered quickly hugging on tightly to Stan again. For the first time he noticed that the cryptid was still shaking.

“You okay, little Polliwog?” Stan asked softly and he held Rick a moment longer, his damp hand running gently over his boyfriend’s fins in an attempt to comfort him. Rick couldn’t cry since he had no tear ducts, but the soft gasping quakes that ran through him now was the closest Stan had ever seen his boyfriend get to sobbing.

“G-go get the-the others.” Rick muttered quietly after he’d calmed down a bit.

“Nothing’s gonna take you away from me again. Promise. I’ll be back soon.”

 

* * *

 

 

He’d driven a little over halfway back when he found Ford and Fiddleford walking down the side of the road. The poacher was handcuffed and being escorted at the end of Ford’s home-made taser gun. It was generally used for knocking out a rogue manotaur, and packed quiet a punch that had clearly already been dealt to the man at least once judging from his singed hair.

“Where the heck have you been?” Ford asked as Stan pulled over.

“Had to take Rick back to the lake. This idiot had him in a glass fishtank when he decided to crash that truck instead of pulling over.” Stan grumbled as he opened the door and water poured out of the car. Leaning over to grab something from the glove compartment before getting out, a shimmer of brass slid over Stan’s fingers. Usually Ford would protest an excess use of force, but he stayed silent for once.

“Be quick about it” Fiddleford sighed as him and Ford got into the car.

“You’re all a bunch of freaks if ya think those monsters deserve your protection” The captured man sneered at he glared at Stan’s clenched fists. He spat at the younger man for extra punctuation and instantly regretted it as the taste of brass and blood filled his mouth.

“No one calls my brother and his boyfriend freaks.” Stan growled before landing a second punch to the man’s gut, making him buckle over as he coughed up the tooth that the first hit had knocked loose. “And the only monster around these parts is you.”

The poacher was then dragged by his collar to the car, and tossed in the back into the muddy fish tank still taking up where the rear seat had been. He sputtered as he swallowed a mouthful of the filthy water left in the tub.

“Honestly you’re lucky I promised Rick I’d be back soon, or I’d have half a mind to drive you out to Mystery Mountain and let Darlene eat you.” Stan said with a frown, “But the local police station’s an awful lot closer.”

“You’re all crazy. The lot of you. Thinking those- those things are your friends. S’unnatural. One day it’ll come back ta bite you. Only thing loving a fish like that will get ya is your heart dragged to the bottom of a lake.” The poacher muttered as they drove back towards the town. Gritting his teeth Stan held back any response. He did however take satisfaction when he purposefully hit a pothole just to hear the man gagging on the water as he was tossed around in that fish tank. After what Rick had been through, the scum deserved to choke a little. 

 

* * *

 

 

Once they’d gotten back into town, they left the tank with the poacher still handcuffed inside it with deputy Blubs before driving back to the lake to get Rick. The Cryptid was waiting by the shallows, already wearing his breathing filter like an extra security blanket even though he was still in the water. Weary from his draining adrenaline rush, Stan let Ford take the keys so he could sit in the empty back of the car holding onto Rick the whole way home. When they’d gotten back to the house, Stan had ordered in pizza, extra anchovies, wrapped his boyfriend in damp blankets, and spent the night at his side. Eventually both of them drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms while watching old reruns of black and white horror movies on the television. 

“It was certainly a close call today.” Fiddleford sighed as he leaned in the doorway of the den next to Ford who was watching as his brother and the cryptid slept nestled in wet blankets and each other’s comfort. “It was a good thing you managed to track down where that poacher was taking them before he’d gotten out of the state.”

“You don’t think he was right do you?” Ford asked softly, concern written plan across his tired features.

“Who was right, dear?”

“The poacher, what he said about Stan loving Rick. That it’s a recipe for a broken-heart.” Ford whispered solemnly.

“Perhaps… although, any love is taking a risk of heartbreak. I reckon those two make each other happy ‘nough it’s worth that risk, don’t you?”

His twin had always been all in or nothing when it came to gambling on love… and while the odds did seem stacked high against a relationship between a cryptid and a human working out in the long run, if he had to place his bets that anyone could pull it off, Ford would bet on his brother. Even if it didn’t last forever, he certainly couldn’t argue the fact that he’d rarely ever seen Stan look as happy as he was when he was with Rick. Perhaps Fiddleford was right. Maybe that happiness, even if it was temporary, was worth the risk. Letting his weary mind let go of any lingering worries for now, Ford decided that it was time he follow Stan’s snoring example and get some rest. He softly pulled Fiddleford’s hand, and they left the soggy couple sleeping by the quiet hum of the television set.

For the next couple weeks, Stan and Rick were nearly inseparable, despite having to constantly sneak back and forth from the lake together at odd hours due to the busy tourist season. Where ever one of them went the other was quick to follow. No one complained about it though. In all honesty, they were all just happy to have their odd little family together again.


	6. The Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After years of avoiding it, Stan takes his cryptid boyfriend to the ocean in search of others like him.  
> 
> Warning: This fic is sad. The “I broke my own heart and cried while writing it” kind of sad. So don’t say I didn’t warn you, and feel free to avoid reading it if you don’t want the angst. those of you who asked for me to post it… I really hope you enjoy your salty tears. <3 

“I’m sick of th-this bathtub, can’t we just go swimming? L-look for the others?” Rick groaned as he splashed idly in the water Stan had drawn for him in the motel room. They were staying right on the coastline. Rick could hear the ocean from here mocking him as it crashed against the shore while he sat in a tub hardly big enough to hold him.

“I already told you I’m renting a boat tomorrow, so we can take Ford’s sonar equipment and sail out further to search for the others.” Stan sighed as he flipped through the motel’s five tv channels. “I can’t just swim for days from the beach like you can. I need a boat in order to help you find them.”

“Can’t w-we at least go for a short swim t-to-tonight then? Just near the shore.” Rick tried again.

“Someone could see you.” Stan argued, although the stretch of beach they were staying near was cold and rocky and deserted this late at night. He just didn’t want to deal with the ocean right now. The waves were mocking him too but instead of tormenting with their endless freedom they sounded to him like the constant tick of a clock counting down the moments he had before Rick would inevitably be gone. Glancing at his boyfriend as he splashed about trying to find a comfortable angle to sit in the bath, Stan felt that familiar guilt creeping up his throat. Rick looked so trapped, and miserable. As much as Stan hated knowing their time together was running out he loathed thinking that Rick would remember these last days together as unpleasant. Sighing he grabbed his sweater and the motel room keys before caving in. “Okay let’s go for a swim. It’s why we’re here in the first place, right? So you can see the sea.”

Rick had scrambled out of that tub so fast he’d trailed water all over the room before putting on his filter neck brace and heading out the door and down the rocks to the water. Following close behind at a slightly slower pace, Stan was busy scanning the area for anyone who might be watching. Relaxing slightly once he knew they were alone, he walked up to where the cryptid stood just barely beyond the reach of the lapping tide.

“It’s chilly, but a gorgeous night for a swim.” Stan said softly as he looked out at the moon light reflecting brightly on the black satin of the waves. Sea salt was heavy on the crisp evening air and made him mildly wish he had a cigarette. The cold didn’t seem to bother Rick, but he still hadn’t stepped foot in the sea, just staring at it apprehensively. He’d been begging to see it for so long, yet now that he finally stood at the shore of that seemingly endless dark water, Rick felt something heavy tugging at his heart.

“Well? What are you waiting for, lil Polliwog? We came all this way. Aren’t you gonna go for a swim?” Stan asked from beside him, though he sounded so much further away than he had a moment before.

“C-come with me” Rick hadn’t meant for the words to sound as needy as they had come out, but was thankful when Stan silently started to take off his clothes, leaving them on a larger rock far enough away from the shore that they wouldn’t get washed away.

“If I get heh-hypothermia I-I’m blaming you, Gillman.” Stan’s teeth were chattering as he stepped into the water first, pink skin prickled from the wind as he spat a string of curses at how icy each new wave was. Rick held back a moment longer, snickering at the sight of his human shivering in water that he was barely just over knee high in. “Well common already! I’m not waiting out here for you all night you know.”

After a nervous glance at a wave that stopped just short of his webbed feet, Rick took a deep breath before removing his filter. Leaving it by Stan’s clothes, he ran into the water full tilt till he got deep enough to dive down into the oncoming waves. The first initial shock was how strong the currents were for such shallow waters, as the force of the tide nearly pushed him back to the shore despite how hard he fought to swim against it. Then as hard as it had initially rejected him, the sea suddenly turned and pulled him out into its welcoming depths. It took a few tries before he found how to use that heavy current to his advantage. Meanwhile his eyes were wildly trying to take in everything through the murkiness of tossed up sand and kelp. His gills flared and contracted rapidly, the saline levels much higher than what he was used to and yet an exhilarating and welcome change. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there letting the waves push and pull him, intoxicated by the feeling of being in water that felt so different from his lake and yet somehow felt so right.

Eventually a familiar tug at his heart reminded him of the still shivering human who he could faintly hear calling to him from above the crashing timpani of the waves. Swimming up to the surface, Rick searched frantically for Stan, stunned by how far out he’d made it without realizing he’d strayed so far from the shore. He quickly returned to Stan’s side once he’d spotted him, his excitement returning at the thought of sharing this wonderful new world with his lover. When he barreled into the human, knocking him over into the water though, Stan shouted in a mix of surprise and panic at the sudden shock of being submerged in the bitterly cold water. Before Rick could play their usual game of pulling his human down into the water for a kiss, Stan was flailing to get back to the surface, where he sputtered and coughed and squinted from the sea salt stinging his eyes. He looked every bit as awkwardly misplaced as he had when they’d first met, back before Rick had helped teach him how to swim properly. The cryptid chuckled, his gills throwing bubbles to the water’s surface around him, until Stan had caught his breath enough to speak.

“Damnit, Rick, you could have given me some warning!” Stan snapped bitterly, the lack of amusement in his voice making Rick cringe.

“I do that all the time at-at home and it never bothers you.” Rick said confused by his boyfriend’s sudden annoyance at his usual method of flirtation.

“Yeah, back at the lake where I’m not freezing my balls off and the water isn’t full of salt.” Stan grumbled as he picked a piece of seaweed from his hair. The firm glare set on his face melted when he glanced at Rick’s worried expression, and his voice softened as he pulled the cryptid into his arms. “It’s fine. You didn’t know and were excited. I get it.”

“You d-don’t like the sea?” Rick asked quietly, his voice barely audible over the water spilling around them as they held onto each other.

“Course I like it. I grew up by it.” Stan sighed as he pressed into the warmth of Rick’s smooth scaled body, “It’s just different. The salt hurts my eyes, and it’s too cold for me to stay in for too long. It is one thing to go for a swim at a beach on a hot summer day, but a cold October night isn’t exactly my ideal. But you like it right? That’s what’s important.”

“Ye-yeah.” Rick felt his throat constrict with an emotion he couldn’t quiet place. While he wasn’t sure what was wrong, he hadn’t missed that reoccurring distant sadness that kept haunting his boyfriend since the night Stan had shown up at the lakeside with his car and the plan to drive out to the coast. It was that same misplaced sadness that had made him hesitate from going in the water until Stan had done so first. This trip to the ocean to find out if there were more cryptids like him was meant to be their best adventure together yet. So why did it feel like it was slowly tearing them apart?

 

* * *

 

The next morning Stan had bundled up in his sweater and stepped outside for a smoke before heading to go find a rental boat they could use. It hadn’t taken long to find what they needed, but when he’d pulled back up to the motel to pick up Rick from the room he was cut off by an old cleaning maid. Stan bit back a curse when he realized he’d forgotten to put up the do not disturb sign.

“Don’t look so worried, boy.” She said with a smile, “You’re friend is safe. Still asleep when I replaced the towels. I let the dear rest.”

“I-er- thanks. We were up late last night.” Stan swallowed awkwardly.

“It’s not like their kind to be so trusting of a human. To choose to leave the sea… you must be quite the young man to earn that sort of love.” The woman whispered quietly.

“Rick’s not from the sea. He came from a lake in the town where I live.” Stan corrected as her gentle brown eyes searched him with the sort of look that could see through a lie. “We’re here looking for more like him. You know about his kind? You’ve seen others like him before?”

“Not since I was a girl, not even your age.” She replied with a small nod toward the beach. “My father had a fishing boat. I helped when I could. He caught one once. I thought it was a mermaid, but father just laughed. He said she was not pretty enough to be a maiden, but he let her go all the same. It is very lucky to catch one, and luckier still to befriend one, but keeping their kind against their will is said to be a curse no man’s heart can bear.”

“Do you know… where the others might be?” Stan asked hesitantly.

“No. If they are still out there, they haven’t been seen by anyone in these parts in a long while.” She sighed heavily, “They wouldn’t be anywhere near the coast though, they prefer the deep waters where they can hide. You’ll need to sail for days before you get out far enough.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

“You know you’re likely to lose him…” The woman reached out a hand to hold Stan’s shoulder when he’d flinched away at her words as if she’d touched an already painful wound, “Yet you still want to help, knowing what you’ll have to give up? It’s no wonder he loves you enough to be on land.”

“He deserves a chance at something better than being stuck in a puddle.” It hurt to admit it aloud, but Stan held tight to the hope that he was right.

“I wish you both luck in finding what it is you seek.” She said with a firm squeeze of Stan’s shoulder before letting go, moving back to her cart of towels and continuing on with her work.

 

* * *

 

Just as the winds had filled the sails of the little boat, something about sailing the open sea with Rick had filled Stan’s heart with a glow of contentedness that eased the ache of dreading what might come next. Time seemed to pass slower with just the two of them living on the tiny vessel. In the day, Stan would steer them further out to the west, consulting with Ford’s sonar equipment and every so often stopping so that Rick could go for a swim. Sometimes Stan would join him in the diving gear that Fiddleford had made for him. They’d explored a ship wreck, which much to Stan’s disappointment held no treasure, and encountered (and eaten) countless kinds of fish that neither of them had seen before, but so far had found no sign of any other cryptids. While he felt guilty for thinking it, a part of Stan hoped it would stay that way. They could sail like this for another week or two and then just head back home. Together. At night they slept nestled in sea soaked blankets. The tiny crawl space was barely high enough to sit up in and held a single bed. Stan would wrap tight around Rick as the tiny boat rocked in the waves like a cradle.

That morning Stan had been checking their supplies and planning how long they’d have till they’d need to turn back. Two more days and he could turn the ship back to shore with a promise that they could try again, maybe in a few years once Ford was done with his research in Gravity Falls. It would buy them some more time. Then Ford and Fiddleford could come too. They could man a bigger boat with their help and go further out. He’d been preparing to tell Rick the plan when Ford’s paranormal sonar equipment went off the charts. The frantic beeping of the machines had Rick rushing about the deck checking all the screens with a childlike giddiness that Stan couldn’t help but smile at despite the pit that was toiling in his stomach as the cryptid babbled excitedly about how they might have finally found something.

Tracking the exact location of the source of the signal was difficult as it seemed to be moving whenever they did. Finally after getting as close as it seemed they were going to get, Rick decided he would simply dive down to investigate. Stan had offered to put on his scuba gear but Rick had insisted it would be quicker if he went alone first. He’d come back to get Stan if he found anything worth the trouble of putting on the diving suit. That had been three hours ago, and honestly Stan wasn’t sure which idea he feared more. That Rick may have found other cryptids down there and had simply forgotten in his excitement to come back for him. Or that his cryptid boyfriend may have just become an afternoon snack for a kraken. The sun was getting low and Stan was in the middle of putting on the wet suit when Rick finally returned, clambering on the boat looking exhausted but extremely please with himself.

“What the hell happened down there? You’ve been gone all day! I was worried sick that you’d gotten hurt or-“ Stan caught himself before he said it as he handed Rick his breathing filter.

“It-It’s hard to tell time. I’m used to being able to see daylight in m-my lake.” Rick shrugged, “I was going to come back for y-you I swear but they said h-humans aren’t allowed in the city-”

“They? … City?” Stan repeated cautiously as he felt his heart sink at the look of sheer joy on Rick’s face.

“There’s hun-hundreds of them down there, Stanley! I wish you c-could see it!” Rick babbled excitedly, “Their technology is- it –it’s fascinating! I mean, I could improve on a lot of it, of-of course, but the resources are unlike anything I’ve seen. Ford would prob-probably kill to get his hands on some of th-the tech they’ve got down there.”

“Woah, slow down” Stan interrupted as Rick started to ramble on about some sort of underwater power converter that hardly seemed important information to Stanley at the moment, “Start over- what exactly did you find down there?”

“It’s them! The other cryptids!” Rick shouted happily, “They have an-an entire civ-civilization down there. It’s like something out of- out of the stories of Atlantis!”

 

* * *

 

The next few days were spent similarly. In the morning they’d track down the movement of the underwater city, which always took a while given that Fords equipment never seemed to be able to lock on its location properly and it was always moving. Then Rick would dive and leave Stan alone on the boat for the day half wondering if he’d ever see his cryptid love again. Each night Rick came back to him though, full of excitement and new stories of the things he’d seen. Each night his fish would snuggle happily into his arms in those wet blankets on the tiny boat’s bed. Sleep was hard for Stan to find those nights as he held onto his boyfriend, not ever wanting to let go for fear he’d lose him. Finally the morning came when Stan had to face that he needed to head back to shore. He needed to go back home. It had been easy to lie to himself before that he would have liked to stay forever on this sailboat, when it had just been him and Rick alone together on the open sea.  Now each day spent alone, waiting for Rick to come back to him, left him feeling hollow and abandoned. It made him realize how much he missed his brother. How much he missed his friends. How much he missed land.

“I have to go back.” Stan said as he watched Rick check the morning’s change of coordinates.

“What? B-but we just found it. If we leave now it could take weeks before we’d find it a-again.”

It could take longer. The way the city moved they could lose it all together and never see it again.

“I know. You… you don’t have to come with me. You can stay… with them.”

The words hung heavy between them as Rick slowly processed what Stan was implying. The cryptid barreled into him so hard he’d nearly failed to catch his balance before returning the tight hug. Scaled shoulders were shaking in his arms and unable to take seeing Rick so distraught, Stan finally felt the tears he’d been holding in for weeks spill over. Rick muttered something Stan couldn’t quite make out as he buried his face into Stan’s neck. He didn’t ask him to repeat it, preferring to just hold onto the three words he imagined he’d heard.

“You al-always dreamed of s-sailing the world- heh-hunting for treasure?” The cryptid’s voice was so small, so uncertain.

“With my brother… but he’s in Gravity Falls. Ford needs me there.” A silent _I need Ford_ went unsaid but was heard all the same. “I can’t stay living like this. I don’t belong here. Floating like some lonely speck on top of the sea, while you’re down there living with them. Visiting me in the night? That’s no better than me keeping you alone in that tiny lake.”

“I-I’ll come back wi-with you-”

“Rick, no. You deserve a chance to live with the others, not in solitude hiding from humans-”

“Le-let me finish.” The cryptid protested, “I can ff-find it again on m- on my own. I’ll swim back.”

“You don’t know for certain you’ll be able to get back before it moves” Stan interrupted again only to get hushed.

“I’ll find it. I n-need to know you made it back to land sa-safe.” Dark eyes, deep like the ocean they belonged to, looked pleadingly into his and Stan couldn’t dare say no. Not when it would mean having another few days together.

“Fine. But you go down there and you tell them they had better wait for you to get back.” Stan resigned. “I don’t want to have to worry that you never found them again.”

 

* * *

 

The trip back to shore was far more melancholy than the days they’d spent sailing out into the sea. Rick didn’t go into the water to swim unless Stan would come with him. What time wasn’t spent steering the ship, Stan spent entangled in his lover’s body trying to hold onto the memory of every little detail.

When they spotted land on the horizon, neither of them seemed eager to reach it. The boat was returned to the harbour Stan had rented it from, and Ford’s gear was pack back into the car trunk along with the belongings Rick couldn’t take with him. The shore was empty as they made their way back down to the beach together that evening. It felt like there should have been heavy storm clouds, or rain, to match the somber mood. Instead it was just bleakly plain grey skies. They sat in the lapping waves together for a long while, holding on in a silent reluctance on how to part ways.

With the calm shallows of the lake it had always been ‘see you later’. Holding each other now at what felt like edge of both of their worlds, neither wanted to admit that they were equally terrible at knowing how to say ‘good bye’. Leaning into Stan’s lap, and soaking in the familiar comforting warmth of his human body, Rick could feel the other man’s tears dripping down his scaled back.

“I’m going t-to miss tequila and- and icecream, music, those st-stupid old m-movies you like-”

“Hey!”

“I’ll even m-miss all of Ford’s questions… and Fiddleford’s goofy eh-exasperated smile w-whenever I’d get the carpets wet…”

“I’ll look after those nerds. They’ll be fine.”

“That lake. Don’t, d-don’t let the filthy air-breathers mess up m-my lake.”

“It’s already a polluted mess anyways, but sure. Maybe I’ll have Fidds build a robot monster to keep them all scared away from it.”

“J-just don’t let them call it a-a Gobblewonker.”

“Can’t promise they won’t” Stan laughed through his tears and Rick chuckled lightly with him. After they had both settled back into a sullen pause, Stan bit his lip softly before adding “I’ll miss you, Rick.”

“Yeah… I know.” Rick replied quietly before finally moving to trade his breathing filter for the old leather choker he’d made from the stone Stan had skipped on his lake the day they’d first met.

Stan followed him out into the water, not bothering to care if his clothes got soaked. The smell of the sea salt staining them would keep him company on his drive home. He watched in silence as Rick dove, disappearing into the dark water, for what he thought would be the last he’d see of him. Before he could turn back to land, Stan felt the familiar tug of his feet being pulled out from under him. He yelped in delight as he was yanked under the waves for one last furiously passionate kiss. Cool scaled lips pressed firmly to his. Then his beloved creature was gone. Dark silhouette swimming off into the depths as Stan pushed himself to the surface gasping for air.


	7. The Catch That Came To Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years after letting the fish whole stole his heart go, Stan Pines finds himself once more sailing the open seas, this time with his twin brother Ford in search of the paranormal. Childhood dreams finally achieved, and yet there’s still only one anomaly out in those waters that Stan wishes he could catch…
> 
> Author side note: Because I’m a creature of constant musical inspiration, my suggested listening for this one is Heavy Seas of Love by Damon Albarn

Not for the first time over the course of the past few months spent at sea on board the newly christened Stan Of War II, Stanley Pines found himself staring out at the waves while nursing a cigar, wondering what in hell had possessed him to let his brother convince him that this trip would be a good idea. Here he was finally on the worldly adventures he’d always dreamed of having since Ford and him were freckled boys on the New Jersey coast, and yet despite how happy he was, his moods were often as turbulent and dark as the waters they sailed. He didn’t discuss it with his brother, though he was sure Ford knew what was plaguing him. After all these years, Stan had foolishly thought that maybe he could finally stop caring that his heart still roamed somewhere in that briny depth without him. He’d been wrong.

Most days though it wasn’t even the ocean that upset him. It was that way his twin constantly looked like he wanted to bring the subject up but wasn’t sure how. Or how Mabel, bless her little heart, always seemed so expectant every time they video chatted, like she was waiting for the day he’d tell her about some fairy tale happy ending he’d stumbled upon. Some days he hated the paranormal equipment Ford had brought along. Every so often the sonar would go nuts, making a fuss over some new mystery and Stan would find himself desperately holding back his own nagging excitement. Each time he’d remind himself how much of the planet was covered in water and how there was plenty of other anomalies out there in that sea than the one he missed. His hand slid into his jacket pocket and pushed past the damp cigarette packet and candy wrappers to find the smooth stone that rested in the bottom. The pebble had come in a glass bottle message from the sea addressed to his great niece nearly half a year ago and yet he still hadn’t to manage to let go of it. He thumbed at the rock’s flat surface for a moment before pushing back the lump in his throat.

_It’s been decades. He moved on… right? So why can’t I?_

A drop of rain struck his face, and after a pause several of its friends joined it as the dark clouds overhead started to spill. Great now even the weather was going to be depressing? Just what he needed. Purging the smoke from his cigar before letting it go out and storing the rest for later, Stan recalled how there had been a time when he used to love the rain. Water in the air meant scales wouldn’t dry out as fast on land. Some of their best days together had been spent out in the rain. Running a calloused hand through his beard and pulling his toque down to cover his ears, Stan muttered bitterly to himself before turning to head inside to escape the weather. He’d been about to open the cabin door when an odd prickling at the back of his neck insisted something was watching. Glancing back over his should there was nothing but the rain rippled waves. Shaking off the suspicion, the old sailor retreated to the shelter of the boat’s living quarters.

“Getting stormy out there again?” Ford asked with a warm smile as he peered up from the notes he was writing in his journal. Stan merely grunted and shrugged his jacket off before taking a seat on his cot to pull off his heavy boots. “There’s stew, if you’re hungry, though it’s getting a little thin. We’re almost out of fish again I’m afraid so it’s mostly just potatoes and broth.”

“I’ll put out the nets in the morning.” Stan said as he rubbed at his tired feet through the thick woolly pink and green socks he wore. There was still some glitter embedded in them from when Mabel’s small sticky hands had knitted them.

“I’m going to run some test on the equipment in the morning.” Ford muttered softly, half to himself as Stan lay back on his cot, “The readings have been abnormally quiet.”

“Hn. Maybe for once we’ve just found a completely boring ol’ patch of regular ocean” Stan chuckled as he pulled his hat over his eyes to block out the soft lamplight.

“I suppose but usually it would pick up even some minimal undercurrent of paranormal activity. Instead it’s been dead silent the last few days-” Ford paused as he heard his brother start to snore and quietly went back to his note taking.

The rain was still drizzling drearily the next morning as Stan cast out the fishing nets and Ford tinkered with his paranormal tracking device. While it was not ideal conditions, the weather seemed to be holding relatively calm, although wet. Not wanting his cigar to get soggy, Stan had opted for an early morning tip of a flask instead to warm him as he finished lowering the nets into the water. He was sick of weak stew and looking forward to a more substantial meal, even if it would be fish again. What he wouldn’t give for a slice of pizza right about now.

“I still can’t get a signal from anything around here.” Ford complained as he pulled the sonar equipment back out of the water, frowning at it in befuddlement.

“I’m telling ya, there’s just nothing interesting in these waters” Stan shrugged dismissively.

“That can’t be right. I swear it’s almost as if something knows how my sonar works and is blocking it out.“ Ford explained.

“It’s not like any kraken could outsmart you, Poindexter” Stan scoffed although he couldn’t help but think that there was one sea creature he knew of who was not only smart enough, but also intimately familiar enough with Ford’s equipment to be capable of doing something like that. He shook the thought from his head. _There are plenty of fish in that sea, Stanley.  Just because your brother’s nerd stuff is broken doesn’t mean anything._

“Come help me bring these back inside out of this rain. I’m going to take it apart and see if I can get it working again.” Ford sighed as he carried the sonar back to the cabin. Stan grumbled a complaint but grabbed the rest of the equipment and followed his brother inside.

While Ford fussed with the electronics, Stan sat on his cot with a small pocket knife whittling a decent sized piece of driftwood he’d found. He was trying to carve it into a pig as a gift for Mabel, but so far it was just coming out like a very lumpy cat. Stan figured she’d probably love it anyways. They worked on their own projects quietly for a few hours, simply taking comfort in the silence of one another’s company, until Ford let out an exasperated groan when he’d failed to find anything wrong with the machine he’d just dismantled.

“Told ya’ it’s just that nothing’s out there” Stan chuckled as he continued to try and make the lumpy cat look like a pig.

“You’re going to get wood chippings all over your bed again doing that in here, you know.” Ford nagged without looking up from what he was doing.

“Better than getting soaked waiting around for the nets to catch some stinking fish out ther-”

Thwack.

They both glanced at the door of the cabin as something smacked hard against it.

“Don’t suppose we’re expecting company?” Stan asked with a nervous chuckle as he set down the chunk of driftwood, keeping his pocket knife out as he approached the door. It creaked open a crack as Stan peered out, but he didn’t see any giant sea monsters. Pulling the door open all the way, he found the source of the noise just in front of his feet. It was a small flat rock, not like the one he had in his jacket pocket. Picking it up and inspecting it Stan turned the smooth stone over in his hand before putting his knife away. There was a small hole in one side of the stone, almost as if it was meant to hang on something, but it was otherwise a perfectly normal old rock.

“Everything okay, Stanley?”  

“Huh?” Stan had that look of someone just barely pulled from a deep fog of their own thoughts, “Oh uh, yeah. It was nothing. I should… probably check the fishing nets. See if we’ve caught any dinner yet.”

Stepping out into the brisk rain and wind, Stan pulled his coat up around him as he crossed the ship’s deck. He stared at the rock in his hand a moment longer before hucking it over the deck, watching as it skipped twice before sinking with a splash into the depth. He waited a beat as if half expecting it to come back to him. When it didn’t he simply smiled sadly and dusted off the ghosts of the past before setting to work.

Given that they hadn’t been cast for all that long, the fishing nets were oddly heavy as he tugged them back up. Stan grumbled a string of curses worthy of his grouchy old sailor status as he gave the heavy catch another tug, the weight of it finally giving in and bowling him over as the net spilled onto the boat’s deck. Silver fish flopped all around him, but the only thing Stan could see was the large familiar gilled creature that had jumped out of the net and knocked him over with a hug.

"Miss me?” Rick grinned cheekily as he leaned down to plant a wet kiss on Stan’s lips. For a moment he didn’t dare to move, worried that if he tried he’d wake up on his cot, having dozed off while carving, and realize it was just another dream. The rain falling around them softly coaxed him to question the fantasy though, and Stan reached a tentative calloused hand up to touch the cryptid on top of him, gently stroking the smooth dark emerald scales on Rick’s side before pulling him deeper into a returned kiss desperately hoping that this was real. The cryptid wheezed slightly as he pulled away chuckling, his worn old gills flaring out as they tried to breathe air. He was still tangled in the netting, and Stan couldn’t help but laugh brightly at how much the sight reminded him of that first night they’d met.

“Damn. You’re still kinda gorgeous up close.” Stan whispered, paraphrasing his memory of that night on the lake.

“Silly a-air-breathers, y-you’re so sentimental” Rick said as his clawed hand pushed back glasses and gently wiping the tears from Stan’s cheeks. The old sailor hadn’t even noticed when he’d started crying, too full of joy to care.

“Oh so I’m the sap now?” Stan asked as clawed hands ran curiously through his thick silver beard “This coming from the fish who wandered into my nets again after all these years? How long were you waiting in there? Clearly long enough that you decided to start throwing rocks to get my attention.”

“You w-were taking too long.” Rick groaned mockingly, “B-besides, you didn’t have to go and throw it overboard. Y-you got any idea how long it’s gonna t-take me to get that rock back now?”

“Wait- was that the same old rock you always wore all the time?” Stan asked as he noticed the empty necklace chain hanging around the cryptid’s neck “I think my human sentimentality may have rubbed off on you, Polliwog.”

“I’m hardly.. a tadpole.. anymore, Stanley.” Rick said with a frown his voice faltering with his shortness of breath.

“Nah. I’m not a spring chicken either, but you’ll always be my Polliwog no matter how old and covered in barnacles you get.” Stan replied softly as concern etched his face, “You need to get back in the water before you drown in my arms alongside all these fish.”

“I h-helped.. catch that sushi, I ex-expect.. you-you to make it for me.” Rick said as he pulled something out from the netting tangled behind him.  It looked like an odd metal neck brace. Once he put it on, a bubble helmet grew out of it and sealed around Rick’s head before filling itself with water. The motor on the filter hummed gently as the cryptid’s gills eagerly gulped in the supply of oxygen. When he spoke again his voice came out of a small speaker attached to the base of the bowl, “It’s not a- as intimate friendly as Fidds old model, but it’ll h-have to do for now.”

“I didn’t think you’d need one of those anymore, living in the sea and all” Stan said as he tenderly tapped the clear bubble with his knuckles. It was tough but pliable enough that the material likely was more durable than the old glass bowl Rick had used to wear.

“I’ve b-been plenty of places other tha-than the sea over the last few decades.” Rick sounded as if this should be common knowledge.

“Oh.” Stan tried not to look offended but Rick was already scoffing at him.

“On land in oth-other dimensions, other planets- it’s not li-like I was in Oregon and didn’t stop in to s-say hello.” Rick chided with a scowl that showed the age of his face more than the smile he’d been wearing prior.

“A visit sooner would have been welcome.” Stan admitted quietly.

“Same goes f-for you, ya know? Did it really need to take you thir-thirty years before you decided to sail into my waters?”

“Alright, so maybe you got me there, Gillman-”  

“Stanley is everything alright out here? I thought I heard you talking to someone?” Ford stopped in his tracks as he starred at the pair still toppled on top of one another on the wet deck surrounded by dead and dying fish and a tangled of fishing net. “Rick! No wonder my darn sonar wasn’t working! You’ve done something to keep that colony of yours hidden haven’t you?”

“Kept the city secrete- but honestly, it was w-worth building it just to know you spent all day dismantling your own perfectly ff-functional gear trying to figure out what was wrong.” Rick laughed as he climbed off Stan, shaking the netting from his legs so he could go give the other twin a wet hug.

“Wait, just how long have you been watching us? That sonar hasn’t been working for-”

“A couple d-days” Rick shrugged nonchalantly, “I didn’t know for- for sure it was you until I came up to the surface to see why a measly boat like this was searching for p-paranormal activity. The ship name gave you away. Though r-really, I always th-thought you’d pick a nice schooner not some run down fishing boat!”

“It was cheaper and more practical for two people to maintain.” Ford said defensively, as if he’d had this argument plenty before. A glance back at Stan told Rick that they certainly had not agreed on this matter. That worn old silver pendant with a large sailing boat etched in it still hung around Stan’s neck.

“Speaking of-of- just two- where’s the third crew member? Th-thought for sure Fiddlestick would be here?” Rick said peering around Ford as if he expected the other man to be hidden behind him.

“Ah- Fiddleford stayed in Gravity Falls, to help Soos with managing the Mystery Shack. He figured Stanley and I could use some time alone together.” Ford attempted to explain, “We could try and get a hold of him on the laptop later. I’m sure he’d be thrilled to know we found you again.”

“I f-found you” Rick corrected, before adding “What’s a Mystery Shack? And-and.. Zeus?”

“We’ve got a lot to catch up on still.” Stan cut in.

“Well we’ve got plenty of t-time,” Rick said with a toothy grin, “I’ll g-get Morty to help move some of m-my stuff up here, and we can get s-sailing wherever it is you two were heading-”

“You’re staying?” Stan and Ford said in unison, with varying degrees of excitement.

“Course I’m st-staying! You think I was gonna m-miss out on an aa-adventure with my two favourite pine trees?” The cryptid replied before turning to Stanley, wrapping a scaly arm around the man’s shoulder, “You still remember how to swim?”  

“He’s been swimming nearly every day of his life since you left” Ford interjected before Stan could answer.

“Good, cause if you’re up for it, we’re going for- for a swim together later, once this we-weather clears up, my jolly sailor bold.” Rick winked and Stan was instantly blushing under his beard. “But first- there’s a lot of stories to tell, and there h-had better be something to drink on this boat!”

 

The End?


End file.
